


Men of Peace...?

by OriiGiins



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: One Shot, Vaguely connected one shots, Wholesome, friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:26:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28616544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriiGiins/pseuds/OriiGiins
Summary: Post Ending C, see how the three men’s lives continue with a series of one shots. They’ll be wholesome, friendly, short, long, chaotic, violent, who knows- join the ride!
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Family Dinner

Michael did still enjoy his poolside deck, now be it with some modifications, his whiskey glass now holding sparkling water instead of booze, and the need for deafening music was less, now that all four of the De Santa’s were getting along quite well.

Well, well enough for their standards. The occasional shouting match between the kids still erupted, but that’s expected for siblings. Tracey was doing her best to respect her parent’s wishes, and vice versa. 

For the first time, perhaps since moving to Los Santos with a new name, the family was at peace with one another. 

“Hey!” Amanda’s voice came from the back door, as Michael’s head shifted his attention. “Dinner is just about ready, come on.”

Michael shifted, taking his sunglasses off and setting them on the table next to his lounger while picking his glass up. “Coming, dear.” 

Michael smiled as he entered and saw Tracey sitting at the table already, even if her attention was on her phone in her hands, at least she was still making an effort for the newly mandatory family dinners.

“Where’s Jimbo?” Michael asked, noticing his son was absent.

“He said he’s finishing up, I think he was doing that streaming thing again.” Amanda answered, pulling a pan out of the oven, as Michael came over to give an over exaggerated sniff.

“Smells good.” He remarked, and the two of them could hear Tracey’s loud sigh from behind them. 

“It’s meatloaf, if mom managed to screw even that up, we’d have to eat takeout until we died.”

The two of them laugh, as Michael added “She’s got a point there.”

Michael allowed Amanda to begin the plating, heading to the fridge to get another bottle of sparkling water out as Jimmy finally came downstairs.

“Hey Jimmy! How’d your dreaming go?”

Michael smiled, now an inside joke, be it more with himself than actually with his son about the mistaken name he called streaming the first time.

“Gets funnier every time, dad. But, I did good! Made about $350 bucks in donations today.” Michael gave a ‘not bad’ look, as Tracey remarked again.

“Still can’t believe idiots pay you just because you’re playing a video game.” Expecting another round of witty banter between the two, all Jimmy did was shrugged.

“What can I say? It’s something I’m actually good at, it’s like if you could make a living off of gossip.” Michael couldn’t help but snicker slightly at the rebuttal. “He’s got a point there, honey.”

“Whatever.” With a roll of the eyes, Amanda finally got the plates readied and placed in front of everyone.

“Dinner is served! Remember, if it sucks, it’s because it’s Eva’s recipe, not my doing.”

The four of them laughed at the smartass remark, before chowing in their food.

Michael couldn’t help but smile, he finally got that retirement, well second retirement, and this time it came with a slightly functional family.

Life couldn’t get better.


	2. Reflections

Trevor’s back was starting to hurt.

He wasn’t sure when digging graves became tiring work, but it was definitely a lot more annoying than it used to be.

Trevor was still in his prime! He couldn’t be getting old, especially to tedious work like this, after all he just hit the Union Depository, killed Steve Haines and kidnapped a Billionaire. Who else could do that?

It had been a few weeks since he made amends with Michael, and his problems were taken care of. The FIB was off his back thanks to Dave Norton, the Chinese were dead thanks to the kid, he should be living peacefully just like Michael and Franklin were, but…

That’s probably why he has been lashing out recently. He craved the chaos, he knew fact all along. Trevor did try to focus on his business, even if it was drug dealing and gun running, he wanted to do it as clean as possible. 

Well, he was, this wasn’t a murder dealing with the guns or drugs that he was burying in this unmarked grave in the forest.

This random camper near Mount Chiliad was his fourth spontaneous murder this week, he wasn’t even sure why he killed this girl.

It’s not like he had time to regret, he didn’t regret it either, but it still felt...useless, pointless, almost as if he didn’t need to do this.

Well, of course he didn’t need to kill her, all she did was make a remark under her breath as he passed her on the trail, he could’ve let it go.

Instead, one crowbar to the head, a few stomps, dragging her to his truck bed and driving out here later, was how it ended instead.

What was wrong with him?

Some murders he felt bad, well he wasn’t sure bad was the right word, maybe he understood there would be an easier way to solve things. Like Debra and Floyd, anger was always how most murders would happen, he wished he could tell Wade what happened, not like he’d actually understand the whole thing.

Maybe he should try therapy like the fat loaf. That thought was quickly met with an audible laugh. 

Trevor could only imagine telling some pinned up suit how murdering was making him empty inside, yeah, that’ll go over well.

Maybe Trevor just needed more meth. After all, the whole reason he was, well he’d admit, addicted to the drug was that numbness it would give. The ability to just...forget and wind out the world did wonders for him sometimes.

Trevor shook his head, finally getting a decent sized box in the dirt, he walked to his truck to get the girl’s body out, throwing it down into the hole, before he sighed, picking up the shovel again, this time to begin putting the dirt back.

Maybe he needed a hobby. 

Michael had his movies, Franklin was on that extreme sport kick for a while until that random douchebag who introduced him to it killed himself and put it off for Franklin.

Trevor didn’t care about movies and skydiving wasn’t the same high as drugs could give him so those were pointless. He tried tennis, but it lasted long enough for him to lose a set and hurl the racket into his trainer’s face. 

Golf. Even with his past accolades and natural talent for the sport, it wasn’t as fun as it used to be. He only would pick up the sticks when Michael wanted to go do a round, and doing anything that involved beating him in a competitive nature was just the thing he needed most afternoons. 

Robberies weren’t fun anymore either. Trevor tried a few gas stations and a couple of random muggings, it probably wasn’t the same since he didn’t need that money. In the past, somebody’s wallet could hold enough for that night’s dinner. Now just doing it for sport wasn’t the same.

It was also probably due to the fact that once you hit the Union Depository, nothing gets bigger than that. There’s no rush of getting $112 bucks out of a gas station compared to helicoptering literal gold out of the city.

“The fuck is wrong with me?” Trevor couldn’t help but remark out loud, as his work covering his tracks was just about done.

Maybe he’ll give something as meaningless and mundane like video games a try, a smile formed on his face when he could only imagine the sight on Jimmy’s face if he ever got into the same game as him.

Trevor sighed as the work was finished, patting the earth down some with the shovel to make it look more natural before chucking the thing into the back of his truck.

Trevor got into the driver’s seat, but didn’t turn the truck on immediately, instead he was finding himself enjoying the view off the cliff about twenty yards away from where he just covered his crime.

He also had more reflecting to do.

Michael. Michael was still a fat lying sack of turds, but shit, at the end of the day, that’s just the type of friend Trevor enjoyed the most. Someone who actually challenged his insanity, not just cowering in fear like Ron and Wade.

Franklin. The kid was good. Trevor loved him, probably due to the fact he had gone out of his way to save his life, alongside Michael’s. But he knew he freaked him out sometimes and as much as he wanted to, Trevor probably could never connect to the hood. Even if he was a drug dealing, gun running, bank robbing gangbanger of some sorts, growing up in Canada probably does that. 

Ron. Ron was the perfect henchman, lap dog, whatever. When Trevor says jump he says how high. Trevor did enjoy his company some, the insane conspiracies he could come up with almost on the fly was for good entertainment. 

Chef. God rest his soul, and god rest his ability to cook. If there was one thing he could change about the Big Score, it was definitely keep Chef alive.

Wade. Poor Wade, well not poor Wade, he had free 24/7 service to a Strip Club, what the fuck was he complaining about?

Trevor sighed as he finally turned the key in the ignition.

“I need some crystal.” He muttered, starting his drive back to his trailer.


	3. Homies

Franklin struggled, just about managing to keep the dog food bag upright in his arms as he kicked his front door open, as Lamar brushed by him, heading for the couch immediately.

“Yeah, thanks for the help, homie!” Franklin remarked, as he finally set the bag down on the floor, what the hell was he thinking about when getting the 50 pound bag.

“Hey, you signed up for those responsibilities for Chop when you agreed to take him.”

The dog in question came running up the stairs from the bedroom area and immediately jumped onto the couch where Lamar was already leaning back, feet up on.

“Besides, big dog still loves his chief, don’t you buddy.” Lamar remarked, more to himself as he was giving a rolled over Chop belly rubs.

“He might as well, not most folk do.”

“Ah, I just know you trying to front as a hardass, but you’ll admit eventually that you got a soft spot for your homie.” 

Franklin couldn’t help but give a small laugh at. “Well, shit, it’s just because of how bad I feel for you.”

Lamar let out a very sarcastic, “ha-ha-ha.”

Franklin made his way to the kitchen, opening the fridge. “Whatchu want for food?” Lamar waved a dismissive hand. “Anything, you know I ain’t a picky motherfucker.”

“Thank god.” Franklin muttered under his breath, as he dug out a frozen pizza from his freezer, turning the oven on to preheat.

“So, how ya homeboys been doing?” Lamar asked, as Franklin came over to sit on the recliner he had bought for next to the couch.

“Who Michael and Trevor? Shit, they got past the stage of wanting to shoot each other after we got all those punkasses coming for them.”

Lamar laughed. “Quite the trio, two crankyass crackers, and their black son.”

The two of them laughed. “I know Michael’s been good though, some big movie coming in production with how much he loves that shit.”

“That’s a man who knows what he wants to do with his life, you could learn a thing or two from that type of ideal, motherfucker.”

Franklin gave another one of those annoyed half laughs. “Shit, you ain’t wrong, the businesses I invested in boring as fuck, and motherfuckers down at the taxi company got me driving lunatics around.”

Lamar let out a loud PSHT! “Nigga please, you met that girl with that FAT ass because of them, you should be your hands and knees kissing their feet.”

Franklin gave a shrug, as if to say ‘you aren’t wrong.’ “Ain’t that the fucking truth. But still, half the idiots they got me driving about, like this one asshole was so drunk he nearly puked in my backseat.”

Lamar laughed, probably at the image of some guy hurling all over Franklin’s car.

“What about Trevor’s insane ass?” Lamar asked, as Chop finally got down from the couch to go lie by Franklin’s feet.

“Who knows with his ass. He went back to Sandy Shores for the week, something about his gun running business having issues. He’s probably out drinking the blood out of a hitchhiker’s decapitated head or molesting a coyote.”

Lamar let out a loud laugh at that one. “That ain’t one right motherfucker.” “You can say that again.” Franklin remarked.

“Well, between your other homeboys being a cracker ass movie producer and a raving serial killer, sounds like you’re blessed to have a nigga like me in your life.”


	4. Phone Calls

“Oh, look at that one!” Michael called out as his tee-shot landed perfectly onto the fairway. 

Before Trevor could make a remark, his phone started buzzing.

“Hello?” 

Michael turned to give him a look for answering his phone on the field, but Trevor waved his hand.

“Listen lover boy, I think we need to work out frustrations again.”

It was Urusla, and as soon as Trevor realized that, his voice perked up.

“Hmm, as much as I’d love that, I’m afraid I have prior commitments I’m in the middle of.”

“I’ll let you meet Mrs. Peggy!” Trevor immediately got the idea of what she had in mind for him and stammered out. “Yeah, yep, yep, ok, alright, I’ll be awhile but wait for me at the marina.”

Trevor hung up, before turning to Michael.

“Listen, I know you’re going to get smart with me—“ 

Michael waved his own dismissive hand. “If it’s that psychopathic girl you’ve been doing...whatever with, go ahead, I can only imagine she gets like you if you say no.”

Trevor wanted to make a remark back but instead gave Michael the finger as he ran off for the parking lot, almost way too eager for what was coming next.

—————————————————————

“I can’t believe he just ran off and left you here.” Amanda started, pulling Michael’s own car out of the parking lot of the country club.

Having called his wife to ask for a ride home, he sat around for a while before she turned up, in his own car which made him smirk a bit.

Michael just shrugged. “He’s got some new sociopathic lady friend—“

“Stop, stop, stop! I don’t need the image of Trevor having sex in my head.”

Michael laughed, before adding. “Well, now that you’ve mentioned the mere idea—“

“Please, shut the fuck up!” 

Michael laughed some more, before realizing it was draining out the sound of his own ringtone.

“Ah shit.” He muttered before answering.

“Davey! I’m with my dear loving wife, what do I owe the pleasure.”

Michael placed his phone on speaker, and Amanda leaned over to give her own formal greeting. “Hiya, Dave!”

“Hello, Amanda!” He responded back.

“So, are you calling for catching up with an old friend or is this a business call?” 

Dave laughed, before letting out “God, no. I’m smarter than my poor, unfortunate former boss to get people like you involved.”

Michael and Amanda couldn’t help but laugh at that statement.

“Well, that puts my mind at ease. We’re good, the studio’s been good, we got War Chumps II coming this summer.”

“Is it gonna suck?”

Michael laughed again. “Of course, but it’s expected to make money, so…”

“Only thing that matters.”

“You get me so well, Davey. So, how is the show going?”

Dave let out a small sigh. “Annoying. No offense, but people in the entertainment industry are such dickheads.”

Michael laughed again. “Why would I ever be offended by that?”

It was Dave’s turn to laugh. “It’s good though, the show producers said they enjoy my quiet wisdom compared to Steve’s pompous ass.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it! Here’s hoping my movie makes money and you get a renewed contract!”

“Amen. Been staying out of trouble?” Dave inquired.

“Whatever do you mean? I’m nothing but an upstanding citizen.”

A sigh came from the other line. “Even with these reports coming from the Eplison’s mansion…”

“No idea what that even means Davey, besides if I were to get involved with some ponzi scheming, brainwashing cult, you couldn’t possibly lecture me about that.”

Another sigh. “Just keep your nose clean and don’t get involved with any more cults, for both our sakes.”

Michael gave another laugh. “Suppose I can do that.”

—————————————————————

Franklin was lounging around, he felt he should go do...anything, but he blew it off.

He was mindlessly watching the crap on TV when his phone went off, and he immediately groaned as he saw who was calling.

“Eh, wassup?” Franklin greeted Lamar on the other end.

“Eh, nigga I need some help, I got to lay low for a while.”

Franklin immediately sat forward, some concern growing already.

“What did you do? Piss off some Ballas again?”

“No, worse! I forget these two bitches were coming by today, and I may have scheduled them at the same time!”

Franklin let a sigh of relief out before a loud chuckle.

“So they both kicked your ass, huh?”

“Ah, nigga don’t poke fun, this shit serious! Laticia is hispanic, you know how them bitches can get.”

Franklin couldn’t help but continue to laugh, but continued on. “Alright, alright swing by nigga, you can crash on the couch for a few days.”

“Always a life saver, homie!”


End file.
